


the longest winter

by brandflakeeee



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, Gen, a fun little piece, getting back into my writing groove, will there be a part two? who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27969551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandflakeeee/pseuds/brandflakeeee
Summary: a small gesture by a man who loves his wife.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Hadestown)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	the longest winter

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the hadestown christmas album 'if the fates allow'.

For all the promises made to one another in the past winter, Persephone thinks she and Hades are already cycling back to old habits. Bad ones. She’s a bit infuriated at the idea because after  _ everything _ they’ve both been trying to do, something has shifted. And she doesn’t know  _ what _ . If it's something she’s done or Hades being an asshole - but his work nights are getting later again. He doesn’t tell her why and she can assume it’s because he doesn’t want her knowing he’s been devoting more time to work - as if she hasn’t  _ noticed _ . She’s half asleep, alone and in bed by the time he comes crawling in.

She thinks it might just be a one off. A few days. 

By the end of the week she’s gone to bed every night alone and most mornings he’s already gone when she wakes up. 

He’s pushing her away again, the voices in her mind chime as she wakes - alone - again. Maybe he’s realises they’re too far gone in their marriage to bother saving. It’s a hurtful thought; they’d promised to try. And they had been. Making more efforts to talk, not to assume things, to share the burden of running the underworld. The town was doing better. Shades weren’t rioting. Factories were being re-worked and mines shut down and that damn wall was being lowered. Rome wasn’t built in a day and Hadestown wouldn’t be dismantled from it’s hellish landscape in a day. But  _ they were trying _ for the sake of themselves and the souls meant to be in their care. Slowly but surely, and the changes were evident even in the first winter. 

Persephone couldn’t understand why he was suddenly pulling away again. She could demand answers if she wanted, but she worries it might fracture the fragile peace between them even more. As if he hasn’t already - but damned if she’s gonna be the one to tell Orpheus his journey was for nothing. Her stomach churns even at the thought of it. They’re better than this, for fuck’s sake. The past few months have shown that. Hell, the years before they started fighting have shown that. She’s missed those early days and having gotten a taste of them again in these past few months, she isn’t so easily giving up. 

He’s being an idiot for some reason and Persephone’s job as his wife is to tell him to get his shit together. Again. At the very least to find out what’s wrong so they can fix it.  _ Together _ . Before it’s suddenly two years down the line and they’re back to fighting and then not speaking for weeks at a time. 

She loves her man, but building their marriage back together is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. Cutting back on the liquor had been easier. She knows he struggles too, but that’s the point - they struggle together. If they can reform an entire realm together then marriage should be a piece of cake. 

Apparently not. 

Persephone stares at the ceiling of their room, twisted in a nest of blankets. He’s gone already, off to work before she can even fully wake up. She rests her arm across her eyes and presses until she can see colors bursting to life beneath her closed lids. Maybe she’s overreacting. She’s got a bad habit of that too and it ain’t left. The voices in the back of her mind tell her nasty things and it takes everything in her not to give in to them. They haven’t been as loud as of late; she and Hades are better at shutting those women out, much to the annoyance of the fates. To hell with them. She hopes her husband ain’t given back into them - the fight to free him of their hold is not one she wants to have. Not again.    
  
Since when did being a god and being married to another god become so damned complicated? Mortals had their shit together more than they did, which was embarrassing thought. Then again, they had less time together with loved ones. Who’s to say she and Hades would already be dead as mortals, their last conversation a nasty fight before death claimed them? Even as immortals they’d both wasted far too much time fighting. Time had not been kind to either of them in that interim and sometimes Persephone still finds more wrinkles and lines both on her face and his that she hadn’t realised existed. 

Sighing, the queen of the underworld rolls lazily out of bed with no real flourish. The room is warm, and she sees her husband has lovingly put her robe across the radiator so the fabric is warm when she drags it on. She isn’t disappointed when she dons it - much fun as larking about in just her own skin is, Persephone easily gets cold in the underworld. Without the factories constantly running and the electric power grid overloading, the realm is cooler. Not unbearable and Persephone prefers it, in truth. Her own body runs hot enough.

She tries not to think about her marriage falling to shit again as she goes about her morning. 

She fails.

There’s a determination in her, however, that only grows the longer she thinks about it. They’ve gone through enough to be here and damned if she’s going to be a bystander to her own personal hell - not again. She’d chosen liquor and numbing over action and protesting and it’d nearly done them both in and the realm along with it. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding. Or maybe her husband has some issue that he can’t resolve and he’s trying to play gentleman by not telling her. Fat chance. She’d promised her life to the realm the same second she’d promised her life to his and if there was any issue, Persephone wanted -  _ needed _ \- to know. 

Much as she loved him, Hades had a tendency to shut her out thinking he could handle work on his own. That hadn’t been her promise way back in the garden those decades ago. She hadn’t stopped loving him in that time of course, only questioned what the hell was going on in that head that made him think the key to keeping her heart was capitalism. That’s why she’d hurt so badly from it; she  _ loved _ him. She’d never removed her wedding band, and she’d tried her damndest to convince him she didn’t need cities and lights - only  _ him _ . Whether it was his own head or the voice of those three women keeping him from hearing she’d not figured out.    
  
Gods blessed Orpheus and his song. Almost a slap in the face - both for Hades and herself. A reminder when they both felt too far lost, diverged from the path they first started at the beginning of their marriage. 

Hence why she wasn’t about to let it go now and fall back into their old, toxic ways. 

In the underworld, Persephone doesn’t dress a particular way other than  _ darkly _ . Her floral spring colors are out of place, but she often tucks a flower or two up into her hair and sometimes they’re vibrant enough - today she brandishes two carnations to pin her hair with. For all the ‘queen’ she is, she doesn’t wear her crown. It’s beautiful, a silver wreath of flowers immortalized in gems. A gift from her husband very early in their marriage. But that sort of thing had long gone out of style. Crowns don’t exactly go well with pinstripes and hers won’t stay on with her dancing. Symbolism is less important; shades know who they are. After all, they’re the only ones left in the realm with heartbeats (beyond Hecate and Thanatos and a few others that linger). 

Satisfied she’s put together enough, Persephone leaves the sanctity of their room. She remembers coming to this house that very first day, how cold and dark it had seemed. Far too large for one person. Hades had often remarked how better suited it was for the both of them, the heartbeat that Persephone herself afforded it. It needs a bit of a clean up in truth; she’d neglected a lot of the house during their fights, too. Flowers in vases that needed replacing, a bit of dusting to be done - the shades they employ can only keep up so much.

His office isn’t far. She skips breakfast in favor of going straight to his office before she loses any nerve or decides she needs liquid courage to confront him. Her stomach rolls at the thought. It’s a familiar path. Sometimes she walks it with rage and fire, sometimes with other intentions (she’s definitely walked it before wearing nothing but his button up and tie). Today it’s a bit of trepidation; she doesn’t want to fight. So she’s doing what she can not to let her temper build any further than what it already has, determined not to go in with venom in her mouth.  _ Trying _ , that’s what it is. What they’re both meant to be doing. 

Persephone raps her knuckles on the doorframe; one of the double doors is open already. Cerberus lifts his head from where he’s curled by the fireplace, giving a soft  _ woof _ in greeting before rolling back over. Lazy damned dog. 

Hades looks up as well, looking almost surprised to see her. She hears him rather swiftly slam a draw shut behind his desk - is that guilt on his face? Or is she making things up that ain’t there? 

“I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Still early.” He rumbles - but he does give her his full attention. Another part of him trying. Used to be he’d barely look up from his work when she came up to see him, preferring numbers to her company. If he can afford to look away now, he does. Persephone also doesn’t expect him to always drop everything; there’s a realm to run and it takes work to do it. Thankfully with her returned help as his wife and queen, his workload has decreased. The removal of the wall and the shutdown of some of the factories and mines had replaced the work that had been lost, some of which Persephone spent her days overseeing - Hades wasn’t the only one who could play factory foreman. 

“You were gone.” She sinks into one of the chairs across from his desk, leaning forward to peer at the paperwork as if she expected something different than the standard ledgers. Same old inventories, nothing new to force him to overwork.

“Sorry, I wanted an early start. Didn’t wake you, did I?” His tone softens immediately. A quiet rumble. 

“Nah, just didn’t know you wanted to work this early. I would’ve come with you. I need to look at the layout of the platinum mines and figure out what we’re doin’ with ‘em. I got some ideas I wanted to run by you.” She tilts her head. “Wanted to ask you somethin’, too.”

His brows furrow and those lines in his forehead increase tenfold. 

“Anything, of course.”

“You’ve been here late the past few nights.” She doesn’t beat around the bush. Straightforward, not letting anything be misunderstood or taken the wrong way. They’re both good at reading things that ain’t there. “Is there somethin’ I can help with? Was gettin’ used to you bein’ in bed.”

There’s the guilt, she notes, as it flickers across his face. Along with something else - fear? Worry? Either way, it puts her on edge because it’s not the expression she expects. Or the reaction she wants because almost immediately her mind starts twisting it out of proportion.  _ Is he hiding something? What’s kept him so late? Is there someone he’s writing letters to? Is that what’s in his desk drawer? What’s he up to? Why can’t I help if he’s worried? Or -- _

She digs her nails into her palm to drag herself back into the present. No. This was how fights started. She had no reason to be furious - yet. 

“Didn’t mean to keep you waitin’.” He seems to be carefully choosing his words in a way that puts her teeth to grit. “Just . . . finishin’ up a special project is all.”

“Special project?” She cocks a brow. “I didn’t know anythin’ about any projects.”

“Just one of mine.” Hades says, expression shifting into something mixed she can’t place. Her stomach twists.    
  
“You gonna tell me?”

“. . . it’s a project . . .” He trails faintly. She shoots him a look. Hades swallows thickly, smoothing his hands across paperwork spread out on his desk. “For you.”

“For me?” Her nose wrinkles in non-understanding. If it was a project for her, she’d have already known about it. She had several projects in the works, meticulously planned out so she can keep track. Was he giving her another project to add to her list? Not that she minds, but what about it would make him stay late and be early? 

_ For you _ .

Oh.  _ Oh _ . 

You stupid woman, her mind supplies as she presses a hand to her face, realizing that despite all efforts, she’s misunderstood. 

“A surprise.” Persephone murmurs, and there’s a slight nod of his head that confirms it. “You’ve been workin’ on somethin’ for me.” She rests her forehead against his desk, face down with a noise of her own stupid frustration. “I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?”

To his credit, Hades chuckles quietly. She feels his hand snake across to grab her own, brushing a thumb across her fingers. He lifts her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, then she feels his fingers brush into her hair near the carnations.    
  
“Not ruined it. Just . . . hurried it along.” Hades remarks. “If you can be patient a few more hours, I’ll give it to you then.”   
  
Persephone lifts her head, cheeks flushed faintly gold in her embarrassment. She’d spent  _ days _ going through a mental crisis because she thought her husband was up to old habits or writing letters to another woman - and instead he’d simply been planning something for her. No damned wonder they had fought so long when she couldn’t even trust her husband for a few days when he started acting a  _ little _ funny.  _ Fuck’s sake _ . 

“Sorry.” She mumbles. The hand in her hair moves to touch her cheek, thumb brushing her lips as she meets her husband’s gaze. He looks  _ amused _ at least. Not angry. Which means he’s trying too - he could have very well gone into full temper tantrum at the mere thought of her accusing him of something other than ‘work’. Thank the damned gods below. 

Apologizing is something she’s getting used to, too. She and Hades had spent a lot of time apologizing to each other the beginning of the winter, especially in those soft moments when they were wrapped in each other, sated and sweaty from love making. How easily he was to love in those moments when there was nothing between them; it felt like coming home after the longest holiday. Much as she claimed to belong to one realm or the other, her true home was Hades himself. Maybe that’s why it had hurt so much in fighting - she’d been shut out from her own  _ home _ in a sense. The drink had made her feel less lost, remind her she was more than just a wife to Hades and a daughter to Demeter. She’d regained herself in the recent months both on her own, and as her place as her husband’s equal. Things had started to fall back into place then, they’d returned to sharing a bed and more. 

The happiness that had left their marriage for some decades was slowly starting to return. 

Leave it to her to nearly throw it all out the window. 

“Didn’t wanna doubt you. Just . . . worried.” She sighs. Hades squeezes her hand.

“I suppose I wasn’t bein’ real secretive ‘bout it. Didn’t mean to make you upset. Hard to surprise you these days.” Her husband offers a smile - she’s always thought he was better suited to a smile than the semi-permanent scowl he seemed to sport. 

“I didn’t mean to make a mountain out of a molehill. Shoulda trusted you is all.”

“Given my track record of doin’ things to surprise you, reckon you had a reason to worry.” Hades replies slowly, and her expression softens. They’ve both got their faults clearly. Ain’t so easy to ignore anymore. But he isn’t wrong, either. His last surprise had been a power grid and electricity laced throughout a realm that used to be nothing but natural. She misses that realm but she understands the underworld must change as time wears on. Just not nearly immediately to the capitalism her husband had thought she wanted (truthfully she’s still trying to figure out where the hell he got that particular idea). 

Frankly she isn’t sure how much longer she would have been able to take it. How long until she would start to suffer because her husband was digging into the earth, into Gaia. Persephone is a goddess of the earth and while she knows Gaia must have suffered with the mines digging deep into her, Persephone had wondered if she would end up suffering physically, too. It hadn’t come to that of course, but between below and the effects the humans were doing up above to themselves - Persephone was sure that winters would go longer and colder. 

Thoughts for another day. Now she’s curious what Hades might have planned. 

“Reckon I oughta distract myself with those platinum mine maps, then.” She settles on instead. “Stay busy so I don’t get nosy.”

He laughs. 

“You said you had ideas. Let’s hear ‘em.”

Persephone tries to set her mind to the task at hand, but it’s hard to keep her thoughts from wandering. Even with something as focused as trying to sort out what mines to shut down and which ones to keep and how to ensure they’re safely decommissioned - her mind still trails off. Not so much worries as it is curiosity. She can see it in his eyes that  _ he _ worries though. Whether it’s if she’ll like it or if he’s done something foolish or what, she can’t quite tell. But the expression lingers as they work most of the morning together on planning out the continued reformation of Hadestown. 

“Ready?” Hades asks suddenly near late morning, nearly noon (so she guesses; it’s hard to tell time most days in the underworld beyond what her body tells her). 

“We goin’ somewhere?” She tilts her head, amused. 

Hades doesn’t reply, only straightens and rolls his shoulders and neck loose of the tension built over the course of the morning. She cocks a brow, but he grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and pulls it on without a word, donning his veritable pinstriped armor. 

“Bit of a walk.” He finally offers, with little other explanation. Persephone stands and he takes up her hand in his own. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Lead on, then.”

Work is left behind as she walks beside him first out of the office, then toward the city itself. The paths are winding, pounded down by the endless shades that take them to and from the factories, mines, and other areas. Some are gathered in clusters on their breaks (which is also new). They look at the king and queen with eyes that aren’t so silver as they had once been - there is knowledge and awareness lingering in those gazes. The shades don’t forget so much these days. There are no riots, not when routines have been established and there are designated shades who bring concerns to her or Hades for resolution or aid. The king is slightly more malleable now that he isn’t arguing constantly with his wife, and Persephone finds herself more involved in the fates of the shades when they first arrive and even well after. 

“Where are we going?” She asks, when she realises they’re moving well past the town and around the area where they’re picking apart the wall. It’s untouched greenery of the asphodel meadows beyond, a place she’s familiar with but hasn’t seen in ages. They walk along a path near the edge of it that she can’t quite remember. 

“You’ll see.” He answers - almost infuriatingly. His hand tightens briefly in her own. 

For a moment, she sees this playing out with a poet and a songbird. Walking the length of the underworld in an attempt to escape together. Not allowed to touch or speak. Long ago she and Hades used to walk the path to the above ground, spending every second they could together before she’d need to return to the springtime and her momma. She’d been lucky then, the pair of them walking side by side. Not the single file of the couple she owes the safety of her marriage to. There’s something ironic about it the more her mind processes this walk - and tries to ascertain what the hell he could possibly have out here to show her. 

They walk, side by side and hand in hand. 

The ground slopes and she realises the path they’re on is one formerly used, leading to and from one of the thin spots in the border between the realms. If she recalls correctly this path leads up to the aboveground and out through a cave - but it’s been centuries since she’s last been this way. Are they going all the way up top? Surely Hades wouldn’t dare - not in the middle of a winter they’re meant to be spending  _ together _ . 

“Now I’m startin’ to worry you’re gonna dump me out on top ‘cause you’re tired of my stunnin’ personality.” Persephone teases. Hades’ lips quirk up at the edges.    
  
“Not a chance, lover. Not in this lifetime or the next.” 

“Romantic.” She hums. “But still doesn’t explain where we’re goin’.”

“Impatient, ain’t ya?”

“Oh, as if you’re one to talk!” She barks a laugh. “You’re draggin’ me across the underworld and now we’re headed up top.”

“And  _ you _ jumped the gun on the surprise, so I reckon you’re just gonna have to wait and see.” He retorts. Persephone nudges him sharply - or tries to. He shifts just enough so she misses and he uses her momentum to pull her into a kiss. Soft, gentle, lingering against her mouth far longer than what most would deem appropriate. Good thing they’re married. 

“Distractin’ me is a terrible tactic.” She mutters in the breath of space between them. “If my surprise is makin’ out like a load of horny youths though I surely ain’t about to complain.”

Hades nearly chokes on his laughter, but grants her with another, shorter kiss.

“That ain’t it. But if you’re offerin’ . . . “

“Later.” She huffs. “Lead on, husband mine. You got this girl curious what you’ve cooked up.”

And so they set out again on the path. The meadow of asphodels quickly turns to more rugged, rocky terrain as the walls of the underworld seem to close in on them. She’d remembered correctly - they were following the path up into a cavern filled with naturally stunning formations. There was a soft glow to it all - a sort of moss that tended to grow in the underworld and offer its own aura of light. It sometimes showed up on the rocks in her garden near the house, softly glowing in the dim light of the realm. 

The path has shifted, not so easily as traveled as it once had been. They step around some piles of rock that have collapsed from the ceiling. He helps her across the larger piles like a true gentleman, or simply moves them out of the way with a flick of his wrist. In truth Persephone sometimes forgets how easily her man can manipulate the earth beneath them, the ores that are lingering in the rocks. It’s a beautiful ability when he chooses; he is a god of the earth as much as she is. 

“Show off.” She tosses at him in jest after he moves a particularly large blockage gently aside so the roof doesn’t come down on them. 

Hades merely grins - because he  _ knows _ , the bastard. 

The ground slopes up steeper in some places than others, but eventually she feels the goosebumps across her arms that tell her they’ve crossed that thin veil between realms. The air is different, less stifling and crisper than that of down below. Hades seems unbothered, and doesn’t even don his shades once the cavern starts to grow a bit lighter up ahead. Daylight filtering in - though she can’t feel the warmth just yet. 

What surprise does he have up here? A day trip to enjoy the sun? She ain’t sure he’d dare try it given the sensitivity he has to the brightness. After all, didn’t he  _ hate _ the above world because it so frequently took her away from him? Demanded her presence to help bring in the harvests and the warmth the mortals relied upon?

Even as the light streams in brighter, Persephone finds the air doesn’t grow warmer. It’s crisp. She’s sure she just saw her breath, too. It was growing colder as they walked; she wondered if he noticed. It wasn’t a subtle shift either. 

Light at the end of the tunnel appears once they round a small bend, and she blinks against the sudden, almost alarming brightness. It seems more than usual - or maybe her eyes are just too used to the underground at the moment. It only grows more blinding the closer they get to it. She doesn’t understand why until they’re fairly close to the cavern entrance and she sees the world is simply  _ white _ . 

“I wanted to create it down below.” Hades says suddenly before she can ask as they walk the last few meters to the mouth of the cave and the world beyond. “Tried. Didn’t turn out right. That’s why I’ve been at work later. Tryin’ to perfect it. Couldn’t make it like I wanted it to look, though.” He continues. “Worked out somethin’ in a few letters with your momma and all . . . wanted to surprise you with this.”

They reach the mouth of the cave and for a moment, Persephone is confused. His gesture of a ‘surprise’ is to nothing. Only a landscape that’s blanketed in ice and a stunning, untouched powdery white. 

Snow, her mind supplies. She’s never truly seen it, only the slush left behind when she returns for spring. Snow and ice are always melted by the time the train pulls into the platform, leaving everything a muddied, disgusting mess. This is pure - untainted. Not melting. Deathly quiet. 

“I didn’t think you’d . . . ever really seen it. Thought you might . . . I dunno. Like it.” She can hear the hesitation in his voice without looking. She remembers telling him once, that she’d never seen snow in it’s full glory. Not the way the mortals talked of it. It had a tendency to melt immediately at her presence because she dragged so much warmth along with her. 

“This is my surprise?” She asks slowly, unable to tear her gaze from the breathtaking sight. The cavern entrance emerges into a semi-wooded area. A clearing is not far off, the surface of the snow untouched even by animal life. The trees are frosted beautifully, hibernating while she’s been away down below. The wind is a bit sharp but she hardly notices. It swirls some of the surface snowflakes and blows it into the cavern - there’s a sharp curiosity when she realises snow has landed on her boots and isn’t immediately melting. 

“Yeah.” Hades rubs the back of his neck. Watching her sharply for her reaction. “I - your momma promised to keep it if you came up for a bit . . . and I did a bit of dampenin’ so it wouldn’t immediately melt the second you started walkin’ up here.” He explains quietly.

Persephone’s heart swells. She takes a tentative step outside of the cave and her boot sinks a bit into the snowdrift, crunching underfoot. Another step. She can feel the cold of it, the briskness of the wind against her cheeks. It’s a bit difficult - the snow is deep. So her steps are awkward, but she’s able to walk a few feet away from the cave into the snow drifts. It comes up just beneath the lip of her boots so snow doesn’t go down into her shoes. But it  _ doesn’t melt _ . It seems  _ impossible _ . 

“Do you like it?” She hears her husband say carefully - afraid of her answer. Desperate for validation. That he’s done something right. 

Her smile could outshine a thousand suns. 

“You did this for me?” She does a twirl - awkwardly, but she manages before she throws herself into the snow without warning. Her back is immediately soaked through - she’s not wearing a coat or anything to keep the piercing cold from her skin. But it’s a  _ welcome _ feeling. Strange, but entirely new. Persephone laughs, digging her fingers into the surface of it all. 

“I love it.” She shouts - he’s still at the entrance to the cave as he watches her sit in the snow without a car in the world. Her earlier worries are gone. Delight fills her instead - like a child with unlimited access to a cookie jar. Unhindered, unburdened. 

“You do?”

Her answer is a delighted laugh that escapes before she can stop it. Probably the first person to enjoy the winter chill in a long time. It looks almost magical the way the ice hangs from the barren branches of the trees. Everything is hibernating, quiet and still in a landscape usually teeming with life. Perhaps she should feel a bit sad to see her springtime realm turned to ice, but she can’t bring herself to be. Winter’s gotta come and she might as well enjoy it if it’s to be the first and last time she’ll ever be able to. She lies in the snow and stares up at the beauty of the branches and just beyond - a sky so blue it could be an endless ocean. Not a cloud in sight. It’s almost blinding against the snow if she looks in just the right angle. 

She hears Hades stomping through the snow toward her and after a moment he enters her view, peering down at his wife curiously.    
  
“I love it.” She promises before he can ask again. “Join me?”   
  
“Down there?”

“It’s not poisonous.”

He makes a show of looking semi-hesitant at the idea, but removes his jacket and sets it on the snow before he sits on the jacket like it’s a damned picnic blanket. 

“Really?”

“What?” 

She shoves his arm as best she can from her current place. It’s such a stark difference between the pair of them that sometimes she understands how easily their marriage had gotten squabble-filled. Summer and winter, light and dark. From the outside, they look like an impossible match. Years of gods and mortals alike telling her what a disaster it was, how  _ awful _ they felt for her being married to the god of the dead. None of them ever asked if she was happy - and she’d tell them the truth. She’d gone with Hades willingly, as his wife and queen and  _ equal.  _ There is so much more to it than that, and quite frankly she’s never given a damn what others might think or say about her marriage. She and Hades know their truth and no one else matters. 

Pity that most of them think she’s as helpless and weak as her momma makes her out to be. The mortals call Hades by his name but her - they don’t even whisper it in fear of her wrath. She has no idea  _ how _ she got that particular reputation, but she does nothing to soil it. 

“This is my favorite gift you’ve ever given me.” Persephone remarks suddenly, realising half a second later that she’d said it aloud and not in her head. 

If he’s surprised, Hades doesn’t show it. Simply wears the same soft smile as before, lips curled up just a bit at the edges. 

“Not that I don’t like your other gifts.” She adds after another moment of lingering silence. Her voice is quiet, almost afraid of ruining the peaceful atmosphere. “But this - it’s . . . . not exactly a traditional gift.” She murmurs, sitting up slowly. “Not every man gifts his woman a whole season. Thank you.”

“I wanted to bring it to ya.” He says, reaching over to dust away snow clinging to her hair. “Just kept turnin’ out wrong. Not realistic. Underground was still too warm. Don’t know how long it’ll last here with you naturally draggin’ in spring, but - well, figured it’d be worth it.”

Persephone’s expression softens. 

“I mean it, Hades. This is - you’ve outdone yourself.” She shifts, closing the distance between them with some difficulty moving in the snow. Without much warning she plants herself across his lap with a laugh - it’s a bit of awkward shuffle because they’re not exactly young, but his hands come around to catch her on instinct so she doesn’t go tumbling back into the snow. He chuckles with her, holding her close as she twists to half straddle his lap. The kiss she grants him is a bit sloppy at first, lips stinging from the cold. Her chilly fingers come up to curl against his cheeks and she pours every inch of her gratitude into the kiss. He seems all too happy to accept, his arms settling more firmly around her waist to anchor them together. She gives a soft hum, feeling his mouth yield against her own.    
  
“You keep those hands wanderin’, lover, and this entire meadow’s gonna melt.” Persephone warns in the breath of space between their lips, feeling him rumble with laughter beneath her. 

“Don’t start somethin’ you ain’t prepared to finish.” He teases and she swats his chest lightly.    
  
“Don’t tempt me. I got a whole wonderland to explore.” She grins crookedly. “You just gonna sit here until the snow gets through your jacket and soaks your ass?”

“I might. Rather like watchin’ my wife lark about in the snow for the first time.” He leans back half an inch to meet her gaze, eyes bright. 

“I don’t  _ lark _ .” She snorts, and sneaks another kiss that has her lingering far longer than intended. The idea of making out like a couple of teenagers returns, but she files it away for later. For now. While she’s entertaining him with several fevered kisses, her hands slip down and into the snow. She slowly grasps great fistfuls of it - and shoves it quickly down the back of his shirt before he can realize what she’s done. 

She feels his body arch, immediately trying to pull away from the cold introduced against his skin. Persephone dissolves into cackling laughter and half rolls away back into the snow. She manages to get to her feet while Hades continues his awkward sort of shuffle to try and remove the snow against his back before it melts and soaks into his trousers. 

“Didn’t think you’d get away unscathed, did ya?” Persephone takes another few steps, better navigating the drifts as Hades tries to stand and nearly slips on his ass - which only makes her laugh harder. “You brought it on yourself!”

Hades says nothing - which in truth worries her for a fraction of a moment. She looks up toward the branches as a bit of snow shakes off - there’s a beautiful winter bird that flutters through the air having dismounted from the branch that sheds some flakes down upon her. 

Three seconds later, she feels a rather large amount of cold and wet slam against her side, splattering across her dress. 

Hades looks entirely too smug with himself - so when she scoops snow into her hands again she launches it at his face and wipes that little smirk straight off his face. 

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.” She parrots back at him. Even from her little distance she can see his eyes darken - a challenge accepted, clearly. Not that she regrets it, even as he stoops to gather more snow. 

She mirrors him quickly, and decides she’s gonna lure him under a tree laden with snow so she can use her power to rain the lot of it down on him. Two can play this game and despite her inexperience with snow, she imagines she can win readily. 

“I intend to finish it.”


End file.
